


The Tournament

by Aeon_Wolf



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Assassincorp, F/F, Fighter!Nyssa, Heircorp, Oneshot, Royal!Lena, Whatever the stupid ship name is, a little ooc, minor characters of Slade Wilson and Ra's Al Ghul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 15:51:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16328978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeon_Wolf/pseuds/Aeon_Wolf
Summary: The kingdom ruled by the Luthor family holds an annual tournament where knights, warriors, and brutes of all kinds come to compete. The victor is permitted to ask King Lionel Luthor for one wish. Nyssa wishes to marry his daughter.OrPrompt: “As per the rules of the tourney, I am granted one wish: I wish to marry your son/daughter.”OrA medieval Assassincorp/Heircorp fic.





	The Tournament

I.

Nyssa Raatko had been training her entire life for this opportunity. She had endured pain and humiliation. Bled for the chance to be here. And she would not mess it up. “Nyssa, I’m worried about you.” A voice caught her attention from the window she was staring out. She glanced over to the reason she was going through with this insane plan.

“Lena. I will be okay. This is the only way we can be together.” Nyssa replied, going back to staring out the window at the castle grounds below. “I’ve fought my way this far. I’m not going to back down now.” She said quietly. Lena got up from her chair, walking over to Nyssa, bushing her hair to the side, stroking her cheek before pulling Nyssa’s face to her, forcing the young woman to look at her.

“And I do not want you to die, my love,” Lena said. “This tournament has been brutal and, frankly, rather barbaric and my heart aches that you are competing in it. I don't want to lose you.”

“Do you have so little faith in me?” Nyssa questioned, not aggressively, but truly wondering. Lena shook her head, trailing her hand down Nyssa’s check, past her neck to rest her hand on Nyssa’s right shoulder.

“I have faith in you. It’s my father and his champion I do not trust.” Lensa admitted. “He is loathe to know you have gotten this far into the tournament. He will do everything he can to ensure you die tomorrow. And even if you do win, when you ask for your desire from my father, I do not trust that he will honor his word. Even though I am not directly in line for the throne, he has plans for my hand.” She said bitterly, though that was the way of the world. Lena would be married off to one of the neighboring kingdom’s princes. The only reason she was 21 and still was not married was that she was able to stave off her father’s suitors but that would not last forever. Eventually, King Luthor would force the issue. His wife, Lillian had urged for years to do just that, but Lionel had a soft spot for his daughter, despite being a cold and sometimes cruel man.

“I will not let Malcolm Merlyn be my undoing. Nor will I rest until I have been given what I want.” Nyssa said. “When I cut Merlyn’s head from his shoulders, your father will not deny me. It would bring great shame to the royal family. Even your father would not be so foolish as to taint the crown.” She reasoned. Lena sighed.

“I wish I could be as optimistic as you, Nyssa.” She said, resting her forehead against Nyssa’s, pulling at the back of her neck downward as Nyssa was a couple inches taller than her. Nyssa turned her body from the window, putting one hand around Lena’s waist, brushing a stray hair from Lena’s face before placing that hand on her arm.

“Have a little faith in me. This time tomorrow, we will be engaged. However, I have been thinking.” Nyssa said slowly. Lena frowned, looking curiously at her secret lover. “I have missed a part in this process.” She said, taking her hands off of Lena, stepping a few inches back. She got down on one knee in front of Lena. “I have realized I never officially asked you for your hand. And I would be loathed to take it without your consent.” She said. “Lena Luthor, princess of this great land, the first time I came to this castle, bearing a gift for your brother, a sword of the finest craftsmanship and I laid eyes on you, I knew you were the most beautiful thing in this world.” She continued. Lena, for her part, stood still and quiet, her eyes downcast as Nyssa kneeling before her. This was not an unfamiliar position, but this was an unfamiliar situation. “I pursued you, though you had no reason to even give a lowly blacksmith’s apprentice the time of day. Yet you did. And received my advances, despite knowing your family’s displeasure at being discovered. You are the strongest person I know. I would be honored if you would grant me my one desire to take you to be mine, as I give myself to you willingly.” Nyssa said, looking up at Lena, tears shining in both of their eyes.

Lena offered her hand to Nyssa, who took it, Nyssa’s rough hands from working at the blacksmith a stark contrast to the softness of Lena’s hand. Nyssa was pulled to her feet in front of Lena, who moved forward, drawing Nyssa into a deep kiss, her free hand cupping the back of Nyssa’s neck. The blacksmith’s apprentice willingly accepted the kiss. The two broke apart, their lips sill only inches apart, both women breathing heavily. “I want nothing more than to have you at my side, someone to call mine,” Lena whispered. Nyssa smiled, squeezing Lena’s hand that was still entwined with hers.

“Then I will win tomorrow. And I will come back to you. Nothing will stand in my way.” Nyssa said seriously. Lena gave her a small smile, wrapping her arms around Nyssa, resting her cheek on Nyssa’s shoulder.

“I hope you are right.”

II.

Nyssa snuck out of the castle, passing the guards confidently like she had legitimate business there. Being the most senior apprentice of the royal city’s blacksmith did give her some clout within the walls of the castle. The guards did not hassle her on the way out of the confines of the castle walls, nor question her presence at the late hour. She slipped through the gates and made her way back to the blacksmith shop where she resided.

“I see you have returned with your head on your shoulders. Met with the princess without being discovered, yet again?” A gruff voice came from the darkness of the shop. Nyssa turned, shrugging.

“If all goes to plan tomorrow, I will no longer have to live in fear of that.” She replied. An older man with an eyepatch stepped out into the low light of the workshop.

“King Luthor is going to be loathed to grant you your request,” Slade replied.

“He will not deny me,” Nyssa said defiantly. Slade chuckled.

“He is royalty, young one. He will do what he pleases.” He replied.

“Then he will learn what a dangerous enemy I can make.” She retorted. This time, the blacksmith laughed.

“I taught you well, but not that well.” He said. Nyssa smirked.

“You are not the only one I’ve learned my fighting skills from, Slade.” She said. “You once asked about my family.” She said. He frowned.

“You said you had none.” He recalled. Nyssa shook her head.

“I said I had none worth talking about. But for this tournament, I needed all the training I could get. You’re good old man, but not that good. There’s a reason you’re a blacksmith and not a knight.” She prodded. He narrowed his eye but did not comment. “Ra’s Al Ghul is the most feared warlord of the five kingdoms. I learned all I need from him.” A tingle of fear ran through Slade’s body. Ra’s Al Ghul was a legendary warrior and bloodthirsty warlord. Not an official royal as Nanda Parbat as a kingdom formed from captured lands of each of four original kingdoms. He was not recognized as royalty, but all in the region feared him too much to challenge his rule.

“You…” Slade stammered.

“I am his heir. The heir to the demon.”

III.

The next morning, Nyssa rose with the sun. The final round of the tournament was to take place at mid-morning and Nyssa was far too restless to sleep much longer. She woke early, grabbing her armor from its stand. Her armor was far more unconventional than the standard plate armor that was in fashion. Instead, she chose to fashion cloth armor with leather and reinforced armor plates for some added protection. It made her far more mobile and able to outmaneuver those in full plate armor, though it did provide less protection.

She had made it specifically for this final fight. Up until this point, she had been wearing the standard plate armor as she was trained in it, though it didn’t feel natural to her like her new armor did. She pulled on the armor, piece by piece, lacing up the various straps and ties. She made sure they were all snug and protecting the proper places. She left her facemask unhooked and hood down for the time being. She grabbed her sword of its place on the wall, a gift from her father when she left, strapping it to her back.

Slade had granted her some time away from the shop a few years back when Nyssa had decided when she was ready; she was going to enter the yearly tournament in order to win Lena’s hand for her own. She had been gone for two years, where the only contact she had with her lover was letters delivered in secret from Nyssa’s home in Nanda Parbat, though she had never disclosed where she went for those two years, just that she was traveling. Her father had welcomed her home with open arms though not without some compromise to enlist his help for her plans to come to fruition. When she had voiced her intention to win the tournament to win Lena’s hand, he had become far more agreeable. For this daughter to gain legitimacy in the eyes of the four other kingdoms would be his way to establishing Nanda Parbat as a kingdom of legitimate power. He agreed to train her as the heir to the demon as was her birthright in exchange for her help to establish his rule with the other kingdoms. As a member of the royal family of the Luthor’s kingdom, even though she would not be in line for the throne, she had power. She had power she could use to solidify his own rule, rather than having to fend off challenges to his kingdom from the others. His saving grace was that each of the other kingdoms distrusted each other too much to launch a coordinated attack against him.

So she learned from her father. He was brutal in his tactics, but she emerged from Nanda Parbat, a formidable warrior. One that was not to be messed with. She had sacrificed her blood and sweat for her skill. And her skill would help her win.

Nyssa climbed down the ladder from her bunk above the blacksmith shop, Slade already working at the forge, sweat dripping from his brow. He looked up from the sword he was working on. “You won’t be the secret heir to the demon if you walk out that door looking like that.” He said, noticing the crest of Ra’s Al Ghul adoring a shoulder pad on her armor and the tassle hanging from the hilt of her sword that also bore his crest. Nyssa nodded.

“I know.” She said without another word, heading to the tournament grounds.

IV.

As she left the shop, she pulled up her hood, putting the facemask over her mouth and nose. She heard whispers as she walked the mostly empty streets of the city, most townsfolk at the tournament grounds for the upcoming fight, but there were a few stragglers. Her regional garb, as well as the crest on her armor, left little to the imagination of who she was.

As soon as she set foot on the tournament grounds, a silence overcame much of the crowd. She held her head high, making her way to the royal box with a purpose. King Luthor narrowed his eyes, his guards tensing. “Those from Nanda Parbat are not welcome here.” He said critically. Nyssa glared at Lionel Luthor.

“Even one who has fought her way to the top of this tournament?” She asked, lowering her hood, unhooking her facemask and shaking her hair free from the hood. There were a few audible gasps and murmurings. Lionel almost snarled at her unmasking, though Nyssa’s eyes flicked to Lena who stood notably still, appraising Nyssa. She hoped that Lena would forgive her for this. It was far too dangerous for the princess to know of Nyssa’s standing and heritage before the right moment. If she was to be found out and her lineage traced to Ra’s Al Ghul, Lena could be held liable if anyone found out that she knew beforehand.

“I will not allow this.” Lionel said, enraged at the sight of Nyssa.

“You have no choice. I entered this tournament as a resident of this kingdom. My heritage does not matter.” She claimed.

“Yet you claim your heritage as heir to the demon.” Lionel spat. Nyssa balled her fists.

“Because when I win this tournament, my wish is to take your daughter's hand in marriage. As Ra's Al Ghul's daughter, I claim royal status in one of the five kingdoms. You cannot deny me.” She announced, which was met with more murmuring and Lionel gripping the arms of his throne.

“Never!” He yelled in a very unkingly way. “I will never allow my daughter to marry the likes of you.” He spat. Nyssa smirked.

“You will have no choice. My father gives me his blessing and his desire for this marriage. Should I win this tournament and you refuse to uphold you won terms of this tournament, you will answer to him.” A small lie, her father gave her no such support, but the King didn’t need to know that. Though the fear that flashed through Lionel’s eyes was clear. He did not want to anger Ra’s Al Ghul. The Luthor kingdom was strong, but not strong enough to stave off a full assault from Ra's Al Ghul.

“You shall never win this tournament.” He said angrily.

“We shall see.” She said, her eyes flicking over to Lena’s once more. Lena gave her a quick tip of the head before leaving the royal box. Nyssa bowing, a little mockingly before making her way to the tent set aside for her, Malcolm's tent on the other side of the arena.

She entered the tent, Lena having beat her there already. Nyssa shut the flap, approaching Lena slowly, who had her back to Nyssa. “Are you angry?” She asked. Lena took a deep breath, turning to face Nyssa.

“I wish you had told me.” She whispered. Nyssa flinched at the sadness of Lena’s tone.

“I did not want to put you in any more danger than you already were being with me.” Nyssa said. “I love you, Lena. But I understand if you want to refuse my hand after this admission.” She said, her eyes downcast. Lena reached up, gripping Nyssa’s chin and raising it to look her the eyes.

“I do not want to take that decision back. I still want to marry you. But promise me, no more secrets.” Lena said. Nyssa’s heart warmed, nodding. A horn rang out in the background.

“I must go.” Nyssa said. “I will fight my hardest for our future, my love.” Lena nodded, grabbing Nyssa’s hand before she had the chance to turn and leave the tent. She handed Nyssa a ring from her finger.

“For luck. And a token of my favor.” She said, leaning in and kissing Nyssa briefly, before helping her fasten her facemask, pulling the hood over her head. Nyssa nodded, squeezing Lena’s hand before leaving the tent to face Merlyn.

V.

“This will be your last battle, Raatko,” Malcolm Merlyn sneered before lowering the visor on his helmet. Nyssa just glared silently back at him, drawing her sword. She had studied his fighting style in the battles earlier in the tournament. He largely relied on his strength and powerful strikes to end a battle quickly. But he had little in the way of patience or agility. So, as she predicted, he swung first. Nyssa, in her light armor, easily dodged his swing, backing up a little. “What’s wrong, Raatko? Scared?” He taunted. She gripped her sword a little more tightly, but didn’t let him goad her into getting sloppy. She was a patient fighter. She would wait for an opening and strike before he knew what was happening.

He charged at her again, this time she parried his blow, hitting him at a weak point in his armor. She knew the ins and outs of armor thanks to her apprenticeship with Slade and knew that in Malcolm’s particular style, it left the joints largely unprotected and Malcolm, for all his wisdom, had not saw fit to wear adequate armor underneath. He grunted from her hit, but swung again. Nyssa rolled her eyes, dodging his blow, bashing the hilt of her sword into his helmet which he had left wide open for attack.

“How did you get the final fight, Malcolm?” She sneered. “Did King Luthor rig the tournament for you? Because this is pathetic.” She goaded. She saw the rage in his eyes through his visor. He growled loudly, gripping his sword with two hands, charging at Nyssa and swinging overhead at her. She simply sidestepped him quickly, his swing missing her completely and with the force he had put into the swing, he hadn’t been able to stop it before his sword collided with the ground.

She was toying with him as she could have ended the battle at the moment, but instead, she just laughed. “Your ego and rage is not attractive Malcolm.” She said as Merlyn recovered, turning his attention on her again. There was a evil glint in his eyes as he charged at her again, swinging at her. She caught his sword with hers, locking blades as they pushed against each other.

“Your death will cement my place as the champion of this kingdom.” He said so only she could hear. “And once I take care of this royal family, this kingdom will be mine for the taking. You have handed me the perfect excuse. When Ra's Al Ghul learns that his dear daughter died at the hands of the Luthor champion, he will be so enraged that he will send assassins for me. And in an _unfortunate_ twist of events, the assassin killed all of the Luthor family before I was able to kill him. My valiant attempt to save the royal family, along with my standing for winning the tournament and as the Luthor champion will leave the pathway to the thone clear. ” He whispered, letting go of his sword with his right hand, pulling a dagger from a hidden holster and stabbing Nyssa in the side. She cried out, pain shooting through her side, the dagger bloodied in Malcolm’s hand.

This forced Nyssa to retreat from the confrontation, holding her side in an effort to stop the bleeding. She removed her hand briefly to examine it, her hand soaked in blood. Her eyes flicked to the royal box and Lena who was sitting on the edge of her chair, fear in her eyes. Nyssa turned her attention back to a smug Malcolm Merlyn.

“Not so tough now, are you?” He taunted. Nyssa snarled, taking a step forward, pain shooting up her side, her hand flying back to her side, blood flowing from the wound. It started to clot, but she could faint from blood loss if she didn’t end this fight quickly. Luckily for her, Malcolm did a lot of the work for her, approaching her with his sword drawn. He was teasing her. He didn’t think she was capable of fighting back. That would be his mistake.

He swung again for her. In her eye it almost came in slow motion as she limped to the side, raising her sword, catching his to his surprise. She pushed downward with all the force she could muster. It was enough as he was not expecting her to continue to fight back, his sword being forced from his hands, clattering to the ground. She then struggled to stand proudly before him before bashing him with the flat of her sword in the side of the head, his helmet coming loose, falling off his head as he fell to the ground. She sneered. “Never gloat before your opponent is dead.” She said before bringing her sword down on his neck, severing it from his body.

The crowd gasped, silence overcoming the arena for a brief second before cheers rang out through the arena. Nyssa fell to her knees, weak from her wound. The blood flow had lightened, but she was still feeling a little lightheaded. She dropped her sword, her body screaming out in pain before she blacked out, falling face first into the dirt.

VI.

Nyssa groaned, wincing as she sat up in the bed she was lying in. She squinted, sensitive to the light pouring into the room. “Where am I?” She wondered aloud.

“You’re in the castle medical wing.” She heard a voice say beside her. She turned, her side flaring up, to see Lena sitting beside her bed. “You took quite a hit.” She said. The redness in her eyes hinted that she had been crying.

“It’s going to take more than a little stab wound to keep me from you.” Nyssa replied, struggling to sit up in the bed. Lena stopped her, pushing lightly on her shoulder.

“No, rest.” She said.

“How long have I been out?” Nyssa asked. Lena smiled sadly.

“A number of hours. Luckily, the wound wasn’t too deep and didn't pierce any internal organs. You fainted from the blood loss. Our doctor managed to stop the bleeding and bind the wound. You’ll be confined to bed rest for a while.”

“What of the tournament?” She inquired. Lena chuckled.

“Only you would have a real brush with death and care about what happened to the result of some stupid tournament.” Lena teased. Nyssa pouted.

“It’s not stupid if it was my ticket to marry you.” She whispered in case anyone was listening in. Lena grinned.

“Your father apparently saw fit to send an… ambassador to observe the tournament, to see that my father’s side of the bargain was upheld should you win. Which you did. You were declared the winner after it was determined that my father’s champion was indeed dead. Though cutting his head from his body was a clear sign.” Lena said. “My father wanted to leave you for dead, but you father’s man made some… proposals that my father could not really refuse. Since you made your wish clear before the tournament, he has drawn up the paperwork to formally announce our engagement and our wedding will happen in due time.” Lena said, her face breaking into a blissful smile.

Nyssa also grinned widely. “I did it.” She said excitedly. Lena nodded.

“You did.” She said, leaning over and kissing Nyssa’s forehead, resting her hand on Nyssa’s forearm, rubbing it gently.

**Author's Note:**

> Now, if this was a multichapter, all the twists and turns in this story would take place over a longer amount of time than this since it's a oneshot. But it was fucking fun to write. I know Malcolm's canon fighting style isn't really as portrayed as it is in this story, but it served its purpose for the story. I'm also aware that a lot of dialogue in the story is cheesy as hell, but dammit, it's my story.
> 
> Nyssa/Lena is such a guilty pleasure pairing of mine that I couldn't help it.


End file.
